Day of Remembrance
by Higuchimon
Summary: It's been three years and Iori still can't let go. Will a visit to the Digital World help him some?


_**Legal Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters presented here and this is done only for entertainment purposes.   
**Title:** Day of Remembrace   
**Focus:** Hida Iori, Hida Hiroki, and Oikawa Yukio.   
**Rated:** PG-13   
**Season/Timeline:** Digimon Adventure 02, 3 years later.   
**Summary:** It's been three years, and Iori still can't let go.   
**Notes:** Thanks to Lady Iapetus, for providing the comment on where Iori got his sense of humor, and why he doesn't show it that much. _

Slowly the sun rose, passing through the clouds on the horizon and sending gleaming shafts of light through the air to caress buildings and early morning risers alike. On one balcony in Odaiba, a young boy, no more than twelve, greeted the sun with a polite bow, and then moved on into a smooth, practiced morning workout that showed the effects of a lifetime of kendo training. 

He always liked to work out in the very early morning, with the cool breeze keeping him from getting too hot, or late at night, when he had his homework done and there was nothing else to do. His partner was, as always, still asleep, curled up into a tight golden ball on the bed, snoozing for all he was worth. 

Hida Iori glanced for a moment over to Armadimon, his lips twitching just a bit as his partner snored quite loudly. _Three years together._ One of the clearest and most vivid memories of his life was the day he had lifted up the Digimental of Knowledge, and released the small creature underneath it. _He's become my best friend. I never thought I could **have** someone who understood me like that._

Even Miyako couldn't quite qualify as a _best_ friend, though she was definitely his _**first**_ friend. She'd been the only one who had really been willing to talk to him when he was younger, up until the time they'd been called to the Digital World. _I never felt that close to any of them except her for the longest time._

He remembered the near panic that had overwhelmed him when he'd realized that he and Takeru were supposed to be Jogress partners. He and the older blonde hadn't really spent that much time together, not like Daisuke and Ken, who had clicked almost at once, nor like Miyako and Hikari, who had found strength in each other that had sealed their friendship in a single gleaming moment. 

That had all been taken care of, though, and he was glad that he and Takeru had started to grow closer. _I don't think I would've wanted to go through the last three years without them all._ He shivered a little at some of the memories, and then shook his head firmly. 

_Don't want to think about that now._ He carefully pushed the thoughts and memories out of his mind and plunged himself fully into the workout. He could deal with the memories later. This was the day for memories and for remembrance, after all. 

By the time the sun had fully cleared the horizon, Armadimon was stirring. Iori stepped back inside quietly, and smiled at the sight of his partner yawning, stretching, and scratching one small ear carefully. Just like he did every morning. "Good morning, Armadimon." He greeted his Digimon, then smiled just a little. "Did you know, when you yawn like that, I can see all the way down to your tail?" 

"So?" The armadillo-like Digimon blinked at him as if this was not news and never could be. "I'm hungry! When's breakfast?" 

"Whenever I make it." Iori shrugged as he headed towards the door. "Come on, if you're late, you get left---" He broke off as he saw his partner jump down from the bed and hustle towards the door. _It never fails. Ninety-nine percent of the time he's a bump on a log. Mention food and he's the fastest thing on four legs._

The two of them shuffled into the kitchen, where Iori's mom and grandfather still had not yet made their morning appearance. _Probably sleeping still, it is kind of early._ The green-eyed Chosen carefully put together his breakfast along with something for his partner, something that cleaned out all the leftovers, and some new food just bought the day before. He liked mornings like this, so quiet and slow. He seemed to be able to think better when things were so still. 

Iori ate much more slowly than Armadimon, who was on fifths by the time his partner had just finished his bowl of cereal. This was usual on most days, and even more so on days like this: when Iori was quite obviously trying _not_ to think about something in particular. Armadimon watched his partner carefully, knowing they would be going somewhere shortly. It happened every year like this, and Armadimon had become used to it. 

"Good morning." The voice was quiet and strong, despite the advancing years of the old man who spoke. "And how have you been this day, Iori?" 

The young boy looked up to his grandfather and quickly bowed. That was yet another sign that Iori had something very important on his mind. The Hida household tended to be a fairly formal one, all things considered, but Iori didn't always start his day by bowing to his elders. Just on special occasions. "All right, Grandfather. I've practiced for the morning." 

"And I'm quite certain with all your practicing, you'll get a morning right one day." Hida Chikara asked with a smile. Iori just looked down into his bowl, instead of returning the question with a grin as he usually did. Chikara knew something was going on then. "Iori?" 

"I'm sorry, grandfather." Iori sighed quietly. "I just haven't been myself today. It's been three years...three years today." 

His grandfather sat beside him at once, and gave the pre-teen's slightly trembling hand a squeeze. "I understand, Iori. You are remembering what happened to Oikawa Yukio." 

"Not just all of that...but...wondering if I could have helped him somehow. If I'd just figured out things sooner." The Child of Faith and Knowledge sighed. He couldn't seem to feel very worth of faith or knowledgeable on this day, no matter what. He'd _tried_, but it always seemed to fail him. If I'd just been strong enough...if I'd went to find him and **talk** to him instead of just treating him as an enemy...could he have been strong enough to overcome Vamdemon? Would we have him as a friend now? 

The unanswered, and unanswerable, questions nagged him, irritated him. Most of the time he could handle it, but on this day, the anniversary of the day Oikawa had died, giving his life to preserve the Digital World, he couldn't hold them back anymore. 

His grandfather placed a gentle hand on one shoulder, able to tell from long practice when would be a good moment to interrupt the other Hida's thoughts. "Iori, when it is someone's time there is nothing that you or I or anyone else can do to stop it. You know that as well as I do." 

"I know, but..." Iori let the words trail off, as he couldn't think of anything else to say. He knew that, he'd been told it a thousand times for as long as he could remember, but he just couldn't seem to grasp it as completely as he needed to, to get the doubts and the guilt to leave him alone. When he was feeling rational, instead of emotional as he was now, he'd figured that it was because of his father. How could anyone say that it had been the _right_ time for Hida Hiroki to die, given all that had happened because of it? 

Chikara sighed quietly. He knew that Iori went through this every year, and there was very little that could be done about it save simply watch over him. He, too, wondered if he had simply reached out _sooner_ to Oikawa Yukio just a few days sooner...a few years sooner..._Perhaps much could have been avoided. But we will never know. I believe Iori's thoughts run much as mine do on this day. Iori blames himself, but he was too young to know what had happened. I was the one who insisted that they spend time apart, and who was scared of what their dreaming might do._ "Are you going to spend time with your friends today?" 

Iori shrugged quietly. "I don't think so. I just kind of feel like being alone today." He could feel Armadimon's eyes on him and couldn't help but smile just a tiny bit. "Well, alone with you, of course, Armadimon." 

Both of the Hida men smiled at that, then Iori stood up. "When mom gets up, tell her where I went, please? I'm just going to be walking around, I think. Get some fresh air, think about things. I might go to the Digital World for a while, too." 

His grandfather nodded quietly. "Have a good day, Iori." He paused for a moment. "The answers you seek don't always come from inside or outside. Sometimes they come from both. The problem is putting them together to get what you want...and what you want might not be what you need." 

The green-eyed child nodded slowly, trying to at least look as if he were _trying_ to understand what his grandfather had told him. He was no mental midget by a long shot, but today just wasn't a good day for him to be thinking about much of anything. Chikara smiled a bit. "In other words, grandson, don't think too hard. The answers come when they want to, not when you want them to." 

Iori blinked slightly, then smiled. "Thank you, grandfather. I think I understood that. Maybe if I get lucky, I can find partners for you and mom while I'm there." 

"That would be very nice." Chikara grinned a little mischievously. "I can't always be recruiting Armadimon when I need help cleaning the dojo and you're too busy." 

Iori chuckled softly, then with another bow he headed for the bathroom. A quick shower and a change into street clothes later, he headed out of the apartment building, Armadimon by his side. He'd gotten used to going everywhere with his partner during their first adventures as the Chosen Children, and in the years since, Digimon had become such a common sight these days no one even batted an eye to see a talking armadillo following him around. Indeed, with more and more people getting their own partners these days, it was almost something to stare at if someone showed up alone! 

With an entirely different, yet sentient, species joining humanity on Earth, things were definitely changing. With so many people having powerful Digimon, the old ways of war and fighting and hate and prejudice were dying out, replaced by reason, common sense, and courtesy. It simply wasn't as easy to go to war when your children's Koromon looked at you with those huge eyes and wanted to know why you were hurting the partners of their friends and relatives. 

Iori approved of these changes. He looked forward to the day when he would be able to tell young children that there had once been such a thing as 'war' but it was no more. With the way things were going, he thought that would be a very real possibility in his lifetime. He liked the thought of that. He liked the discipline and skills of kendo, but the thought of actually fighting and killing revolted him. He knew there were times when it had to be done, but that didn't mean he had to like it. 

It didn't really take long for him to wander around enough to be bored with the local scenery. Once you've seen a land where televisions pretty much grow out of the ground, and where there is a forest of road signs, and refrigerators full of who knew what popping up, the average park or city street just wasn't quite as interesting anymore. 

_What I want most right now is just to **think**. In a place no one will bother me._ In Japan, as one of the famous Chosen Children, that was practically the next thing to impossible. _In fact, I think I see a reporter trying to hide there now._ He almost visibly winced at the sight. _I forgot. With today being the anniversary, we're all going to have reporters on our tails._ The best thing they had all found over the last three years was to totally vanish on this day. Normally they all went somewhere together, and he was fairly sure the others were off somewhere already, out of sight and out of mind. For a moment, he wondered if he should find where they were, then shook his head. Alone was the way to go for him today, he could feel it. And the best place to be alone was in the Digital World. _All right, where's the nearest computer?_

It didn't take long for him to get to one of the cybercafes and find an empty spot. Five minutes later, with the reporter just about to reach out and tap his shoulder, he was swept off to the Digital World. _I am **so** glad only Chosen Children can open the gates up still._ Iori didn't even want to think about what could've happened if just _anyone_ could get there now. Carnage galore was the least of it. They'd already fought one war ending with the revelation of Digimon to the world at large. The last thing they needed was another. Who knew how _that_ would end up? 

"So where are we going to go now?" Armadimon peered up at him curiously. Iori glanced around for a moment to see where they'd landed and shuddered. He recognized this place. How could he not? He still was here sometimes in his nightmares. 

It had been here, three years ago, that they had fought their final showdown with BelialVamdemon and had defeated him. It had been here that Oikawa had died. He stared at the spot where the gate to the world of dreams had been for several minutes, replaying that horrible afternoon over and over in his head. 

That had only been the beginning, however. It was what had happened _after_ that which had really kept the raw pain in his mind, pulsating over and over for the last thousand days plus. 

It had been three days after that. Things hadn't even begun to settle down, and for a time it had looked as if it would be all out war between the Earth and Digital World. Humans, especially adult humans, didn't always respond well to finding out there was more to the universe than they had previously thought, doubly more so when they found out that kids had known and that there was very little that could be done about it. There were still, and probably always would be, rumors that some government organizations were trying to 'persuade' their local Chosen Children to let them into the Digital World or bring Digimon out of it. He was just as sure that some of them _weren't_ rumors, too. 

But then, Iori hadn't really been thinking about that. He had been spending those days showing his mom and his grandfather around the Digital World, glorying in their reactions to it, sharing it with them, as he hadn't ever had the chance to with his dad. 

Then it had happened. A package in the mail had arrived for him, and the accompanying letter had been from a lawyer who had said he was Oikawa's executor. It appeared the possessed man had made some arrangements at some point late in his life, just in the last couple of weeks, and now that he was dead, the lawyer was carrying them out. Those arrangements had included the package: which had been a scrapbook of pictures and the like from the years Oikawa Yukio and Hida Hiroki had spent together. 

Iori had spent several fascinated hours reading through it all, looking at the pictures to see his young, vital, and alive father caught in the act of talking, laughing, and just generally _living_ with the guy who had been his best friend. _Did you have any clue, father?_ The twelve year old wondered as he stared down at the exact spot where Oikawa had died. _Did you ever suspect that your death would cause so much pain?_

Even as he thought it, he knew that his father hadn't. Even if it were inevitable, Hida Hiroki would never have done anything that would've caused harm to someone else who didn't deserve it. That just wasn't the way he was. Or had been. Figuring out tenses for the deceased wasn't always easy. 

"Iori?" The patient voice of his partner was the only thing that let him know he was letting precious time pass while he sat there lost in his memories. "Iori, are you all right?" 

"Yeah." The young boy smiled a little, then settled down on a rock. "Armadimon, do you know where we are?" 

"Of course I do." Armadimon looked curiously at him. "This is where we fought BelialVamdemon that last time." 

Iori nodded sadly. "And where Oikawa-san died." For a moment he looked around, almost expecting to see the butterflies that the older man had become around. Sometimes they _were_ seen, but not often. Over the last three years, it had become somewhat of a sign of luck to see them flying about. No one had ever seen _him_, but Gennai had said it was possible that in time, he might learn how to assume a human form. Oikawa wasn't really _dead_, not in the sense that humans understood it anyway, or so Gennai had claimed. His energy had become part of the Digital World, and he was now part of it. 

"You miss him, don't you, Iori?" Armadimon stared at his partner with glistening green eyes. He had never been as close to their enemy as Iori had felt. _Iori's not even as close as he feels. He just feels...sorry for him. Not that he didn't need someone to feel sorry for him._

His partner nodded quietly, staring down at the ground before him. "He was a part of my dad's life. A part I never even knew existed. And a part I lost before I really got to know him." He tried to fight back the tears that suddenly began to threaten. He could feel a connection to how Ken had felt three years earlier, when he had fallen as the Digimon Kaiser. 

_Why do I keep losing people??_ Iori hadn't let it show then, but that heartfelt cry had torn into his soul. _That was one reason I couldn't forgive him for so long. I'd lost people too, so have other people I know. Why did he think he shouldn't?_

Iori's eyes flicked for just a moment to where the gateway had been. The door to the other world, the world where he'd seen his father. _He looked just like my picture of him._ A faint chill ran down his spine at the memory. Hida Hiroki, as much as he loved his son, always looked rather drugged out in that picture. _I know he wasn't, but still, I never even really thought about how **creepy** it is._

The thought of that dream, that so-real, so completely _vivid_ and _life-like_ dream, returned to him. His father had been so real...to sight, at least. But there had been no sound. No substance. _He was just a memory. Something I could've dreamed without any help whatsoever._ He had done his best ever since then to share the Digital World with his mom and grandfather, but it wasn't quite the same, and deep inside, they all knew it. Going there had been Hiroki's dream, one that would never be realized, and never could be. 

Without really noticing what he was doing, Iori stood up and walked over to where the gate had been. It had been here, three years earlier, where he had tried to pull Oikawa out of the dream world and had failed. _I want them both back. Oikawa-san...my father..._ He reached out carefully, his fingers brushing the very spot where Oikawa had transformed. "Come back...please..." A single tear splashed down, dampening the earth slightly as it did so. "Come back..." He wasn't even certain if he was talking to Oikawa or his father. It wasn't as if it mattered. They couldn't answer him either way. 

"I've never left you, Iori." The voice wasn't one he consciously remembered, but it resonated in the deepest parts of him. He knew it could belong to only one person. But to be _hearing_ that person was impossible. It shouldn't be happening. It _couldn't_ be happening. 

Whether it could or not, he was turning around to where it was coming from. There before him stood a young man in his early thirties or so, with a tender, loving smile on his face. He wore casual clothing, not the uniform of his job, but there was no way Iori could mistake who it was. 

"Dad?" 

Hida Hiroki smiled softly at his son. "Hello, Iori." The young boy could only stand and stare, a thousand emotions warring in his eyes. "I'm not a dream or a vision. I'm real...as real as I can be, at least." 

Iori had never felt this completely and utterly off balance in his life. He'd seen untold numbers of strange things over the past three years, but seeing this _real_ ghost, the ghost of someone he _knew_, of a member of his _family_...definitely won the prize. Even seeing Wizarmon's ghost hadn't thrown him for this much of a loop. He was a Digimon, the rules weren't the same for him, but this was his _father_. "D...dad?" 

"Iori, I know you've been thinking about me, and about Yukio, especially today." Hiroki gazed lovingly at his son, his eyes full of a deep, rich love that had never faded in the years since he'd left them. "I know you don't want to forget us, and you shouldn't. But you're holding on too tightly. You can't live your own life if you keep clinging to the past like this." 

"But you _died_! Both of you! That's _wrong_!" In Iori's voice was all the bitterness, grief, and sorrow of a child forced to grow up without a father, of one who had lost a friend without closure, of all those who hate death and do not understand it. 

Hiroki laid a transparent finger on his son's lips. "Listen to me. If I had not died, then Yukio would not have done what he did. If he had not done that, then you would not have been a Chosen Child, and you would not have Armadimon. None of your friends would have seen their old partners, or gotten the ones they now have. The children Yukio infected with darkness would have gone on to becoming miserable and lonely adults, with few friends and less prospects. He caused a new fight against darkness and evil, but from that fight came strength and compassion and friendship and love. Do you understand?" 

Iori's eyes widened in shock for a moment as he began to grasp what his father meant. "It was...supposed to happen this way? You were...supposed to die? You wanted to leave me?" 

"I didn't want to, but it was for the world." He paused for a moment. "Ken has been teaching you chess, I believe?" Iori nodded. "Then think of it as sacrificing a chess piece. To win the game, sometimes pieces must be given up, even if you personally care for those. This is the game of life, and sometimes sacrifices must be made." Hiroki gazed at him. "I never wanted to leave you, my son. But I have to. You have to move on. I can't move on until you do." 

A tear spilled from one emerald eye. "I'm sorry, father. I didn't mean..." Iori didn't want to hold his father back, no matter what. 

"I understand." Hiroki brushed one finger by his son's eyes. Iori shivered just a little; he couldn't feel it, but he was aware of what it should have felt like. The loving gesture stabbed right into his heart. "I love you, Iori. I will always be watching you...no matter where I go." 

"As will I." Iori's head whipped around, and his eyes widened to see a faint shimmer of sparkling butterflies. They whirled around in a spiral, then seemed to solidify, leaving the form of Oikawa Yukio standing there. He was just as insubstantial as Hiroki was, and he looked at the ghost of his friend with something in his eyes that Iori could neither read nor understand, but was amazed by regardless. 

Hiroki smiled faintly. "I knew you'd find your way here one day, Yukio. I knew you wouldn't ever give up." 

"Hiroki." Oikawa didn't move, but the strong impression that he wanted to radiated outward from him. "It's been so long." His voice ached with emotions that had no names, and for a heartbeat, Iori felt as if he were watching something he shouldn't, something so emotional that no one should have been there to witness it. He couldn't bring himself to move, though. He _wanted_ to see this. It felt as if something were being repaired that had been broken for too long. 

The ghost's smile increased. "I know. I was hoping you'd come when I did. I knew that you'd know I was here." 

"I've always known where you were, since we first met." Oikawa reached out a little, with Hiroki reaching towards him, and Iori's heart shuddered to see that their fingers going through each other like so much mist. "I still can't touch you..." 

Hiroki shook his head. "I'm dead, Yukio, and you belong to the Digital World now." 

"So the thing that lets me see you won't let me touch you." Thick bitterness flavored the words, and Oikawa looked as he had when Vamdemon had been possessing him, cruel and cold and full of hatred for what he hadn't been able to get, but could never stop wanting. 

His friend shook his head slowly. "Just like I told Iori, Yukio, what's meant to be is what meant to be. Trust me. I'm dead; I've learned a few things since then. This is _your_ destiny." He waved a hand that somehow seemed to encompass the entire Digital World. "They're going to need you one day, just the way you are, and you couldn't give them that help if you were with me." 

"I need _you_, Hiroki!" Oikawa almost seemed to spit the words out. "I haven't had a friend like you since your father forced us apart!" 

The older Hida smiled just a little. "Haven't you, Yukio?" The two insubstantial beings looked in the same direction: at Iori. He stared back at the two of them, and inched a little closer. 

"I really wish I could've helped you, Oikawa-san." The young boy told him honestly. "I've been thinking about both of you all day. I keep thinking if I'd just--" 

Oikawa shook his head, cutting the young Chosen off. "It isn't anything _you_ did or didn't do that had me ending up like this. It was all my own decision. I let Vamdemon into me because I was too weak to resist his lies. I didn't stop when I could have. I'm sorry." 

"It's not your fault, either." Iori remembered what his dad had been saying before Oikawa had joined them. "Dad says it was _supposed_ to happen that way, to help us all." 

"And it was." Hiroki reminded them. "The Digital World needed you, Yukio, and it was going to get you sooner or later. This was the best way. I don't think it was the _easiest_ way, but it did do the most good for the best number of people." Oikawa looked as if he were going to protest for a moment, but fell silent at a shake of Hiroki's head. "You know I'm right. You're just being stubborn." 

Oikawa ducked his head a little, somehow managing to look like an abashed child despite being grown and not even flesh anymore. "You've always been able to see through me, Hiroki." 

"That's not very hard right now." Iori was shocked; he'd never really thought his father would make a joke like that. It took him a moment to remember that his father had always had a healthy sense of humor and had been more than willing to crack jokes on a regular basis. _He was teaching me how to do the same thing...but then he was killed and I couldn't handle laughing anymore because it always made me think about **him.**_

Yukio chuckled a little weakly, then looked at Iori. "I don't know if I can do this very often, but if you ever want to come and talk, I think I can try to get better at it. It's not something I should really do regularly, but for you, I think I can spare the time." 

Iori nodded firmly. "I think I'd like that. I probably can't come that often, but I can make some time, on weekends and things." 

"Then I'll see you when I can." Oikawa returned his attention to Hiroki. "I always wanted to see the Digital World with you, my friend. We're both here now...and I still can't do it." 

Hiroki nodded slowly. "I know. But at least we have seen each other, if nothing else. And Iori has seen us." 

His friend nodded, then reached out his hand once more to pass through Hiroki's. "Someday, my friend. Someday..." As Oikawa faded way, Iori thought for a moment he saw a tear in those sad eyes. He wouldn't have been surprised. 

"I have to go now too, son." Hiroki didn't sound as if he was very happy about that fact, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. Iori reached out to touch his father, and for a single moment, he could feel warm flesh, just where he was touching. "Dad...how come I can touch you, and he couldn't? That doesn't seem very fair." 

"I know. But not everything in life is always fair. I wish it could've been otherwise." There was a very deep sadness in his voice, and Iori had never so much wanted to hug his father as he did in this moment. 

"I love you, dad. I'll always love you." 

"I love you, too, son. Good-bye." 

"No." Iori dredged up a watery smile from somewhere. "See you later." 

Hiroki smiled briefly back at him. "See you." And then he was gone, as if he had never been. 

Iori gazed at where the two of them had stood for a moment, then sighed, feeling a great weight lift from his heart. He glanced back over to his partner and smiled. _Grandfather was right. I got the answers I needed, and they just happened to be the ones I wanted._ He was going to have a lot to tell the old man when he got home. He was certain Chikara would believe in him, too. No one else might, after all, even in this day and age, who would believe in ghosts? 

_I would._ His smile broadened, then he looked at his partner. "Hey, Armadimon...ready to go home?" 

"I'm ready." The golden creature shuffled over to him and looked up. "Are you happy now, Iori?" 

The other smiled quietly. "Not yet." His heart sang and wept at the thought of the talk with his father and Oikawa. "But I'm getting there." _Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Oikawa-san. Maybe someday you'll get **your** wishes too, and see the Digital World together._

**The End**


End file.
